


Her Demons

by Rin_the_Shadow



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: AU to The Last Stand, Alternate Dialogue, Cross-Generational Friendship, Discussion of differences, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Kurt may be in over his head, Male-Female Friendship, Reconciliation, Rogue Needs a Hug, Rogue is not the most reliable narrator, Sassy Rogue gives me life, Sexuality, Some reordering of scenes, Spoilers for X2, Wishing Jean were somehow here again, faith - Freeform, it's not her fault she's just upset and sees things skewed a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 16:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_the_Shadow/pseuds/Rin_the_Shadow
Summary: AU to X-Men: The Last Stand. Rogue struggles to cope with the obstacles her gift presents in her relationship with Bobby, and the differences in desires and understanding. When a cure is announced, she sees a way to fix things, which only makes things worse between her and Storm. But perhaps she can find some support through someone with similar struggles.





	Her Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a gift to my sister, whose favorite character is Rogue, and who was disappointed with the way her character was handled in the third movie. I was also curious as to how some scenes might have been different if Kurt had been present for these events. The characters as presented in this story are based on a mix of their X2 characterizations in the movie and novelization (I absolutely loved Rogue's internal monologue), and some alternative interpretations of The Last Stand. I also reordered some scenes, mostly because I felt they worked were I put them.
> 
> As of right now, it is not necessarily connected to "Challenge," but some of the dynamics between Kurt and Rogue there are based on what I wrote for this. But without further ado, I give you....

“They can’t cure us. You want to know why? Because there’s nothing to cure. Nothing’s wrong with you. Or any of us, for that matter.”

Rogue had wanted to snap back, to scream, to make Storm tell her why she _couldn’t ever touch anyone_ if there was nothing wrong with her. But the words died in her throat and she turned on her heels and stormed from the room.

Ororo sighed, sparing a glance to the Professor. Of course that would strike a nerve with the girl. She should have known that. But she was still wound tight from Jean’s death, and the thought that anyone at the school would just throw away her sacrifice like that—would decide to desecrate her memory by “curing” themselves—

She pinched the bridge of her nose and prepared to go after her. She and Rogue had never quite seen eye to eye, but with Jean gone, she should at least try to mend it. But just as she turned to leave, she felt the pressure of a large hand on her shoulder and turned back. Kurt. It was easy to forget he was here now, in spite of his having taken over language studies, since he still tended to slink off to the shadows anytime things got heated. He didn’t want to intrude, he’d said, especially with everything happening and people still grieving for Jean. Even she had forgotten he was listening to that conversation.

“Perhaps,” he spoke slowly, “it would be better if I spoke to her?”

Storm studied his expression for a moment, more guarded than she remembered, as if he didn’t want any thoughts slipping out. He wouldn’t want it, she was sure, not with the way he talked to her on the Blackbird, but then there was always a chance…

No, she mentally shook herself. She couldn’t let herself think like that. “Sure, Kurt. Go on ahead.”

He smiled slightly, squeezing her shoulder in appreciation before slipping off after the girl. He wouldn’t teleport while Hank was in the room, not while he didn’t know him well. But Storm figured that was better for Rogue (and probably for Kurt as well) if she wasn’t surprised.

Hank McCoy gave a knowing chuckle. Storm turned, crossing her arms, and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

* * *

 

She stood in her room, leaning off of the window sill, watching him skate circles around the pond with a girl who she’d remembered as barely being old enough for junior high when she’d first come here. She probably should have guessed that if her mutation didn’t drive him off, the words she’d yelled at him earlier would.

“What’s wrong is I can’t touch my boyfriend without killing him. Other than that, I’m wonderful.”

"Rogue, I told you that wasn't important." Of course it wasn't. Not for him. "Why are you suddenly so--"

"But you can't tell me you never think about--"

“Hey, I don’t think that’s fair. Have I ever put any pressure on you?” Why couldn't he just listen to her?

“ _I want those things, Bobby!_ Did you ever even _think_ about that?”

He’d stared at her in stunned silence for several moments before she turned and stalked away. Why did she tell him that? She remembered everything her mother had said about how girls were supposed to be pure and delicate. The exact opposite of her, she thought. Well, whatever. There would surely be others, right?

Except…the others would probably leave too, once they realized she couldn’t kiss them, or touch them, or…

 _Knock, knock, knock_. Her head whipped around to see a familiar blue face standing tentatively on the threshold, “ _Guten tag_. Mind if I come in for a minute? I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Nightcrawler. Rogue felt her jaw clench. He’d saved her life when she was sucked out of the _Blackbird_ , but then again, she’d noticed things since then. “Did Storm send you here?”

His face fell slightly. Well, she supposed it was a step up from the flinch she would’ve gotten a month ago. “No, Ororo…ach—Storm—she wanted to follow you,” he admitted, leaving out that he thought it might be better if they kept some space between them for awhile.

“Hm.” She turned back to the window, jerking her head to signal he could come in.

A few moments later, he was beside her as she watched Bobby and that girl. “You had a fight?” he asked. She stiffened, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” It wasn’t the tentative, cringing apology from before. More an acknowledgment of a boundary overstepped.

“No,” she answered, not looking back. “I figure everyone knows it by now.”

She heard the soft clinking of beads muffled by a pocket. She could picture his lips flattening into a thin line as he considered  whether or not he should deny it. In the end, she knew he couldn’t. Not truthfully. But maybe he would still try.

“He protected Kitty in the Danger Room today,” she continued. “I shouldn’t be mad about it, but…” There had been other things, too. He’d spoken to her less, hung out with Kitty more. It made sense, she was growing up, but still. “I don’t know…”

He waited for her to continue. She just shrugged. He wasn’t sure if he understood her correctly, but he ventured anyway. “You think it is because of your abilities? Because you cannot touch?”

She shrugged again. It was another minute or so before she spoke. “Maybe at first. Now…I don’t know, maybe it’s still that, but…”

“You think there is something else?” His head tilted slightly, barely enough to be noticeable.

She tensed, remembering herself snapping. _“I want those things, Bobby! Did you ever even_ think _about that?”_

Her hand reached up to grip her arm. “…yeah.”

He didn't want to push her. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“I snapped at Bobby earlier.” She spat it out before she could give herself time to regret it. “Because we can’t kiss or do anything else, and he was saying it wasn’t important.” Her nails dug into her arm through the sleeves and gloves. “Like I only wanted it for him.”

She was shaking now, realizing how stupid it was to have said that. Girls were supposed to be pure and delicate, her mother had always said. They shouldn’t tell grown men about wanting to have sex with their boyfriends. Probably even thinking about sex was out of the question in her mother’s book. Even worse, he was messing with the beads of his rosary again, as if she needed another reminder why she shouldn’t have said that. So what? She couldn’t control her powers and she couldn’t control herself either, apparently.

“I wish Jean were here,” she whispered, hating how small and fragile her voice sounded.

“She would be much better at this kind of thing, yes?” Well, at least he didn’t seem disgusted with her, even if he was probably the last person she should have mentioned it to. He knew it wouldn’t be appropriate for him, a grown man, to talk to her about this, but…

“Yeah.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Just…when I heard about the cure, I thought…”

“Hm,” He gave a nod of affirmation, letting her continue at her own pace. She was hurting. She needed to get this out before he could even think about sending her to Storm to talk. Besides, passing her off while he knew she was in pain…She’d come to think of herself as a burden.

She whipped around suddenly, and he had to jump back to avoid a faceful of her hair. “Is it so wrong that I want to be…” she wrung her hands, staring at them like they were poisonous snakes. “That I want to be…not like this? To be able to hug, or shake hands or…”

 _“There’s nothing wrong with you. Or any of us, for that matter.”_ Rogue froze at the memory of those words, wrapping her arms around herself and curling in away from the window, trying to calm her now ragged breathing.

He was silent for a few moments, weighing the merits of what he was about to tell her. “Storm…has battled prejudice all her life,” he said, keeping an eye on her and noting her rolling her eyes as she stared off. Of course she would think he meant to take sides. “People told her that she was wrong to be what she was, and so when the announcement was made that there was a way to change that, she saw it as…” He had to be careful not to violate Ororo’s privacy.

He paused. “I don’t think she meant anything against you. When she heard you saying you wanted to be cured, she saw it as one of her own telling her she was wrong all over again. But it doesn’t make it right to snap at you.” Storm had never fully healed from that, or from Jean’s death. It was something he was learning as he came to know her. It was something she would probably always be healing from. 

Rogue’s face crumpled. “I just get so tired of feeling like a freak…even here…”

Of course, he could understand that. He had long since learned how to handle it, but at her age, she had never been given that chance. If she was his sister, or his child, Kurt would have pulled her into a hug. But since she wasn't, it might not have been appropriate to do.   He did so anyway, making sure she could feel there was a layer of clothing between her and any skin she might touch, and keeping his grip loose so she would know she could pull away if she wanted. He didn’t know how she might copy his mutation, but he wasn’t about to risk any effects it might have on her. She tensed, ready to wrench herself away, then slumped into him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, rocking her as she cried herself out, weeping furious, burning tears at being unable to contain her frustrations.

* * *

 

When she started to peter out, she pushed herself away. Not a rough push, but just enough to say that she was done. Rogue plopped herself down on the edge of her bed and pulled her knees up to her chest.

At first, he thought this meant she wanted him to go. There was only so much he could help with, that she could _let_ him help with, and he was aware that he was coming to the end of that. But as he turned to leave, her tired voice called out, “Did you ever want to be cured?”

He froze, uncertain of how to answer her and debating whether he should sit at her level or remain standing, before perching on the opposite end of the bed from her. “My mutation works a little differently from most of yours. You see, Herr Professor has said that most mutations manifest at…” he lost the word for it in English. Strange, it seemed like it should have been obvious. “At about your age, a little younger than you, yes?”

Rogue nodded. Kurt thanked her for understanding and continued, “I’ve been like this since I was born.”

The girl’s eyes widened in sympathy, but then she schooled her expression, remembering better. In that split second, though, he caught the slip.

“Ach, no, it’s all right.” With her mutation, it was understandable she would see being born with it as even worse. “But because I was born looking like this, I think I had more time to adjust to it. This…all of this is normal to me.”

She bit her lip. “But...” Maybe she shouldn’t ask. Some of the others had gotten annoyed with her for thinking this way. Storm especially. “Is it—was it ever hard? Not being norm—not having that same normal?”

He found himself reaching for the worn beads of his rosary. “At times, ja. Outside of the circus, most people were afraid of me.” He wouldn’t give her the full story the way he had for Ororo. She didn’t need that right now, and a lecture on faith might make her shut down.

“Even other mutants.” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.

“Sometimes, yes.” The children’s reaction when he’d come to free them from Stryker’s cells still hurt to think about, even though the majority of them had later said they hadn’t meant it.

“But you like being this way anyway.” She observed, expression unchanging.

“Well, could you imagine me any way else?” He shrugged, a little sheepish.

That drew a smile from the girl. No, try as she might, her mental picture of Kurt wouldn’t change from the blue elf—as Logan had called him—who liked to hang from the rafters by his feet and tail. But then her expression turned serious. “So you don’t think I should take the cure?”

Kurt paused. “I don’t know,” he admitted. There were so many reasons _he_ wouldn’t. Even with the difficulties he’d had, especially in forming relationships, he couldn’t truthfully say he would even consider it. But then, there were so many differences between his mutation and hers. In her place… “That would be for you to decide, wouldn’t it?”

“Hm.” She might talk to Logan about this later, see what he thought. She already knew what the Logan in her head would say. Still… “Thank you,” she said.

There was another long pause. Kurt seemed ready to take that as his cue to leave, to give her time to process. Yet he stayed, almost unmoving, in case she needed to ask any more questions.

“Um…” she ventured at last. “I think maybe I could talk to Storm now.” But if she was still mad… “Can you come with me?”

She knew there were things he couldn’t stay for if she decided to talk about them, but… “Of course,” he replied, standing up and moving to the door. She stood, and leading the way, they crossed the threshold. But when they had gone about three paces, Kurt stopped.

“Ach… Fräulein, Miss Monroe is the other way.” Rogue pivoted on her heel and caught him by the elbow, dragging him along, a silent, “I knew that” trailing behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hopeful that I have done these characters justice. If you have any questions, comments, or critiques, please comment below. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day.  
> ~Rin


End file.
